


Look at all the fucks we don't give!

by faeryn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mooseley, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeryn/pseuds/faeryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't even know. Crowley and Sam and sex and angry writer angriness. Retaliatory fic because people shit on ships and that ticks me off. Enjoy, Mooseley shippers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at all the fucks we don't give!

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to demonmuffinman on Tumblr (who may or may not be on AO3, I have no idea) and all the other Mooseley shippers who have to deal with assheads on the internet. I'm sorry people are horrid about your ship. 
> 
> I'm sorry if it's not very good, it's not my ship so I had a hard time thinking of characterisations for a pairing I'm not used to!

Sam rolled his eyes at the bark of laughter that lanced into his concentration from the other side of the table. He fixed Crowley with a sharp glare that clearly spoke volumes but the king of Hell merely smirked back. 

"You should read this, Moose, it's bloody hilarious," he chuckled, pushing the touchscreen tablet across the table towards the man. Sam knew there was no way he was going to get any peace unless he gave in - Crowley could be infuriatingly single-minded at times - so he picked up the device and scanned the screen with a frown.

"What am I looking at, Crowley?" 

"That, love, is a messageboard." 

There was a short silence while Sam fixed Crowley with bitchface #673 but the demon was completely unruffled. "Right. So?"

"Just read it you massive idiot," Crowley said fondly.

Sam sighed and looked back at the screen, dragging one finger down the page to scroll his way through the comments. Slowly realisation dawned on his face and a mix of emotions flitted across them from amused to angry to flushed with embarrassment. 

"They're, uh, arguing about us?" 

"Your powers of observation are truly legendary, Moose," Crowley said sarcastically, "it's a fanfiction website. You know, like that one your  _dear_ ex-wife runs? Only this one isn't about you and  _Dean_."

"Yeah, I get that now," Sam glared at his lover, "but why are they arguing about us?"

"Well for one thing they don't know the whole story, pet. For another they can't bring themselves to just live and let love. You know how it goes; some people can see a deeper meaning and others can only see a confrontation. It's one of the reasons Hell's so successful, after all." 

Sam made a grumpy noise and read a few more comments, his brow furrowing as he grew more and more annoyed with what he was reading. Most of the arguments _against_ the whatever-they-called-it were petty at best, designed more to needle the fans than to argue actual points. Crowley watched him with open interest and sipped from a glass of whiskey - a 40-year-old vintage he'd 'procured' from somewhere. After a few more minutes Sam suddenly dropped the tablet to the table and lurched to his feet, rounding the table and grabbing Crowley's sleeve as he passed. The demon allowed himself to be tugged along, interested to find out what would happen next. 

He wasn't disappointed when Sam pushed him into the room they shared and shoved him roughly down onto the bed, straddling him in an instant and locking their mouths together in a violent, hungry kiss. Crowley gave a surprised moan and licked into the hunter's mouth eagerly.

"They can say what they want," Sam gasped between kisses, "they don't fucking know anything."

Sam pushed the smaller man down hard onto the bed, pinning him down by his shoulders and grinding their hips together forcefully. This was the way their relationship went; Sam forcefully taking what he wanted even though Crowley could pin him down with nothing more than a flick of his wrists. Crowley letting him because, frankly, watching Sam go to pieces was  _hot_ and he was glad to be the source of his pleasure. He arched into the hunter's touch as Sam hurried to divest him of his smart suit; jacket, waistcoat and tie quickly flying across the room followed swiftly by his shirt leaving him panting on the bed in nothing but his trousers and undershirt. 

Sitting back on his heels, Sam let Crowley shuffle his way up the bed while he pulled off his own plaid overshirt and t-shirt, tossing them into a growing pile on the floor and lunging for Crowley's ridiculous dress shoes. They argued almost constantly about the demon king's apparent need to be fully dressed at all times, Sam felt that he should be able to walk around without his shoes on _in the bunker_ if nowhere else and it drove him crazy that whenever they paused whatever they were doing for what Crowley so eloquently called a 'shag break' he always had to waste precious time untying them. Crowley, for his part, threw off his undershirt and fumbled with his belt and eventually managed to yank it off and toss it to the floor after his shoes and grinned wolfishly as Sam's followed quickly. 

 They flew together again, teeth nipping lips sharply and almost drawing blood as Sam held Crowley against the headboard and attacked his body with his own. Crowley hooked his legs around Sam's waist and locked his ankles together, pulling the tall man in until their hips met and they both paused to groan loudly as their hard lengths met through well-worn jeans and neatly tailored trousers. 

"Fuck, Crowley," Sam growled into the demon's mouth and he chuckled in reply, softening the kiss and rocking his hips to bring another extended moan from his Moose. 

"I know, pet," he crooned, shifting his attention to Sam's long neck, kissing and biting it affectionately. Sam's arms curled around his shoulders and he tilted his head to the side to let the demon lavish attention to his skin and holding him in place almost tenderly as the thrill of sensation ran through his body. He shuddered as Crowley licked the hollow above his clavicle and pressed a gentle kiss to the dampened skin. 

This was getting altogether too touchy-feely for Sam, who preferred to keep their exploits on the sex-for-mutual-benefits scale rather than the once-more-with-feelings scale, so he snarled and pulled away, rocking his hips hard and making Crowley shiver as their cocks pressed together through the fabric.

"Clothes," Sam muttered thickly and they sprang apart again to shuffle awkwardly out of their pants until they knelt together on the bed again, naked and panting, eyes hooded with barely-restrained lust. The hunter sat back on his heels and gave Crowley a suggestive look that the demon knew all too well and he fell to his hands, nosing at Sam's cock eagerly. 

Crowley had to admit Sam was proportionate all over, but that basically meant he had an  _enormous_  dick - one the king of Hell loved to feel inside him any way he could get. He quickly closed his lips around Sam's head, licking at the weeping slit with the tip of his tongue and enjoying the moans of pleasure from above him as Sam laced his fingers into his dark hair loosely, just enough to feel the tug but not enough to direct him. Crowley sucked gently then pulled off, running his tongue down his substantial length and suckling at his perineum before sliding back up to take him back in his mouth once more. Sam's moans got louder and more desperate as Crowley began to suck him off in earnest, easily taking the whole of his length because hello,  _demon_. When Sam started to rock his hips gently, desperately caught between wanting to climax and not wanting the pleasure to end, Crowley sucked him down one last time and swallowed hard, his throat muscles constricting around Sam's head and making the hunter cry out loudly before he pulled off and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand with a grin.

"Don't want you to finish too early, Moose," he said thickly, "I'm sure we've got better things we can do with that monster dong of yours." 

"Shut the fuck up Crowley," Sam shot back shortly but kissed him breathless anyway, pushing him onto his back and fumbling one handed in the nightstand drawer for the lube. 

So, okay, he complained and he snarked and he had so many bitchfaces he reserved wholly for Crowley that the demon was a little concerned sometimes, but he was nothing if not a considerate lover. Sam liberally coated his fingers and nudged Crowley's legs apart as he kissed him, pressing one finger to his entrance and waiting for the relaxed huff of breath that he knew meant the demon was ready for him. It didn't take him long to prep Crowley these days but he still took his time, pushing in one finger gently until he began to make soft moaning noises into his mouth before pressing a second in and scissoring gently. He knew exactly how to crook his fingers to make Crowley arch backwards and push down on his hand, crying out as the digits stroked the little bundle of nerves deep inside him. He trailed a gentle finger up Crowley's own thick length, circling the head as he added a third finger and thrust inside earnestly. Sam didn't even slick himself up until Crowley was making needy, mewling sounds and clutching at his shoulders desperately. 

Of course, he wasn't about to just  _give_ Crowley what he wanted, so once he was suitably lubricated he pulled his fingers from the smaller man's body and positioned himself in their place, nudging the ring of muscle but not slipping inside just yet. He simply waited, barely moving, while Crowley moaned and whined and keened, writhing underneath him and trying to push back. 

" _Please_ , Moose," he begged eventually, tears in his eyes as he wriggled in the hunter's tight grip.

"Please what?" Sam crooned, leaning down to kiss his lover with teasing gentleness.

"Fuck me for pity's sake you utter bastard," the demon king said in a half-sob before crying out in relief as Sam pushed eagerly into him. 

Sam didn't give Crowley time to adjust and he didn't want or need it, his breath torn from him in ragged gasps as his hunter kept up a relentless pace. His fingers pressed into the smaller man's hips as he pounded into him, his hair flopping around his face wherever it wasn't stuck to his skin with sweat. For his part Crowley clung on for dear life, pushing bruises into Sam's biceps and crescent fingernail marks as his grip tensed whenever Sam's angle shifted and he thrust directly into his prostate. Sam chased his rising climax then slowed down, making Crowley almost screech in frustration as he began to move in long, languorous strokes that brushed the bundle of sensitive nerves inside him with every thrust. Slipping a hand between them, Sam curled his fingers around Crowley's neglected erection and began to move his hand in time with the movement of his body. 

Crowley's skin fizzed with lightning bolts of pure pleasure as he felt his own orgasm rise, uncoiling from deep inside him like a snake and spreading through him to fill every nerve with fire and ice. Sam continued to move slowly, building the pressure for both of them and drawing it out for as long as he could.

" _Sam_ ," Crowley panted, eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he held back his climax and that was almost too much for the hunter. Sam groaned and shifted his position then upped his pace to the same relentless chase he had used to begin with, matching his thrusts with his hand on Crowley's length, stroking him in time with each jolt of pleasure from Sam's cock on his prostate and hitting it on every single thrust. 

"F-fuck," he stammered, hips stuttering as he felt Crowley spill over his hand onto his stomach and came inside him a beat later. 

They collapsed, panting and sweaty and utterly sated. Unlike Dean, Sam had absolutely no qualms with post-coital cuddling and tugged Crowley into his arms, kissing his sodden hair vehemently as their breathing slowed.

"Not a valid ship my ass," he grumbled quietly.

"You show 'em, pet," Crowley mumbled back, snuggling into the hunter's embrace sleepily. Sam retrieved his t-shirt from the floor - god forbid they used Crowley's own clothing for cleanup - and mopped up the worst of the mess before letting himself and his partner relax. "And not a single fuck was given that day," Crowley breathed with a quiet giggle.

"Aw I dunno, I could go for round two after a nap," Sam tilted Crowley's face up to his and kissed him with all the tenderness in the world. He always got sentimental after sex. 

"Sounds good to me, Moose." Crowley kissed him back then breathed a gentle sigh, lapsing into exhausted, sated sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry Mooseley shippers. I tried. It's not very long either. And written directly into AO3 so unedited, unbeta'd and probably fully of angry typos XD
> 
> Anyway, fuck ship hate. Fuck it in the ass, dry, with a gigantic pineapple-shaped dildo made of broken glass and coated in salt. *snarls* 
> 
> I can't even tell you how angry I am that people think it's okay to give people shit for their ship. For fuck's sake people, if you don't like it don't look for it! *seethe* It's not like you can't block tags on tumblr and shit. Grr. How would you feel if someone started giving you stick about your ship?!?! I mean really! It's not necessary! *grumbles a little while longer* Okay I'm done. For now. Hmpf.
> 
> Anyway, you can find me on tumblr if you want. On my [main blog](http://faeryn.tumblr.com) or my [very quiet writing sideblog.](http://faerynfics.tumblr.com) Feel free to direct your ship hate at me, it fuels my angry writing.


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